


With This Ring

by DuckInterpreter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1130090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuckInterpreter/pseuds/DuckInterpreter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let’s do it then,” Stiles said, distracted, searching for information on wendigos, with his laptop resting on his knees and his desk covered in books. He’s looking for a Greek word in his English/Greek dictionary, and sipping coffee, all at once. He didn’t even glance up at Derek.<br/>“What?” Derek froze, and gave Stiles his full attention. “Get married? Just like that? I’ve been trying to talk to into a wedding for a year!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	With This Ring

“Let’s do it then,” Stiles said, distracted, searching for information on wendigos, with his laptop resting on his knees and his desk covered in books. He’s looking for a Greek word in his English/Greek dictionary, and sipping coffee, all at once. He didn’t even glance up at Derek.  
“What?” Derek froze, and gave Stiles his full attention. “Get married? Just like that? I’ve been trying to talk to into a wedding for a year!”  
Stiles shrugged. “We never had a solid reason before. We already live together, we adopted that kitten together, we don’t want kids yet. But if I can’t come and get you out of hospital when you’re injured then you’re right, it’s a problem. Anthro̱pofágos.” He muttered, “it’s not in the dictionary. I bet it means something really horrible. I’ll call city hall tomorrow if you want.”  
“City hall?” Derek asks, stunned. He can’t believe Stiles is finally agreeing to this. And all it took was some creature tearing off one of his arms, being rushed to hospital, and a nurse walking in while it was re-growing.  
“Yeah, we’ll go down, sign some papers, get Scott and Cora to witness, bada-boom, done.”  
“We’re not getting married in city hall.” Derek growled.  
Stiles ground his teeth. “I don’t have the time for this!” he exclaimed, exasperated. “I can’t plan a wedding, I have too much to do, so-”  
“I’ll do it.” Derek interrupted, calmly.  
“What?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll call florists and find a venue and deal with centrepieces and all that bullshit?”  
“Yes.” Derek said evenly. “Stiles. Look at me, Stiles.”  
Stiles sighed and finally looked up, frowning a little as Derek strode across the room and knelt beside him, taking his coffee cup and holding his hand.  
“Stiles. Will you marry me?”  
His face was so earnest, so serious, that Stiles couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.  
“Fine, you dork, but I swear to God I am not planning a single thing.”  
Derek grinned. He could absolutely work with that. 

.

Stiles limped up the stairs and, with a little difficulty, pushed open their large sliding door, scooping up their kitten, Liza, in one hand to stop her from running out.  
“Derek?” Stiles called, into the apparently empty apartment. Liza purred and rubbed against his face, climbing up his shoulder a pawing at his hair a little.  
His arm was bandaged and he was pretty sure he’d sprained an ankle, but overall he was whole. The last time he had seen Derek he was just beginning to heal from some gashes from a rival alpha and the Sheriff had insisted Stiles go to get stitches.  
Stiles tried to ignore the gnawing worry in his stomach and limped into the kitchen, where the table was covered in fabric, paper samples, the odd cutting of flower, and a note.  
With a frown, Stiles leaned over the table to peer at the note. It was Derek’s tight, neat handwriting. 

Stiles,  
Out doing errands, 100% healed so don’t worry (don't worry was large and underlined numerous times)  
venue I wanted only had one date available,  
in 3 weeks.  
Hope you’re ready.  
Love you, Derek. 

Stiles sighed, and his phone rang. It was Erica. Lydia had gotten one of her feelings and everyone was gearing up to find a body and would Stiles be ready in five, because they’re on their way. 

.

Derek had discovered a few things in the past couple of weeks. Firstly, everything related to a wedding was more expensive than he could have imagined, not that he minded, since he had barely touched his inheritance. It was also exponentially more work than he had imagined, especially since Stiles was so particular about so many things. He enlisted Lydia, for her amazing taste, Erica, who was forceful enough to deal with vendors, and Scott, who knew Stiles best.  
Scott went with Derek to pick the suits, the flowers and the cake. The flowers were hard, because anything white reminded Stiles of funerals, which he had been to too many of. His mother’s had calla lilies and Heather’s had roses. Paige had a variety of brightly coloured flowers and every one of them was etched into Derek’s mind. But eventually they settled on blue and purple tulips, which would be used as single blooms, surrounded by greenery. Lydia picked a colour theme and dresses for the bridesmaids and designed the invitations. Erica got them a slot at the venue Derek had his heart set on, after ranting on the phone for an hour and a half. All of this was done while also searching for Isaac who had followed a fae girl into the forest and under a hill.  
After searching the woods all night Boyd had found a fairy ring, where they followed Deatons instructions to give an offering to the earth (various fresh meats and fruit) and chanted and a circle opened within the ring, which they scrambled through.  
Derek finally retrieved Isaac with a carefully-worded truce between the pack and the court and also by offering an invitation to the wedding.  
Fae couldn’t pass up a celebration, particularly one in the name of love. 

.

“I wouldn’t have agreed to this fucking thing if I knew it meant I wouldn’t see you for days at a time!” Stiles yelled, slamming dishes into the sink and aggressively washing them.  
“You barely agreed as it was! Look, I’m sorry I missed dinner, but I had an appointment and then I had sentry duty watching your old school to make sure it wasn’t one of the students who’s the witch. And it was! I could have been cursed! But nooo your schnitzel is more important that the towns safety and our wedding!” Derek angrily wiped down the table and threw the cloth in the sink, eyes flashing.  
“Maybe we should just call it off.” Stiles muttered.  
“What?” Derek narrowed his eyes dangerously, his jaw clenching.  
“You knew I didn’t want to do this, what do you want from me?” Stiles growled.  
“You’re calling off the wedding? The wedding that is happening in one week because I missed dinner? I knew you were stubborn, but this is a whole new level!”  
“I- no- I just, I don’t know. I don’t want to call off the wedding. I’m tired! I have been working my ass off training to be a deputy and trying to learn Latin to translate that bestiary and I am goddamn tired.” Stiles aggressively wrenched the tap to stop it running and spun around to face Derek, arms crossed.  
Derek said nothing, staring into the distance with his jaw and fists clenched.  
“Yeah, okay, just go silent. That’s going to solve all our problems, isn’t it? Classic.”  
Derek remained still and mute and Stiles stalked out of the room, storming up the stairs.  
“I’m sick of this. I’m going to stay at my Dad’s,” he yelled.  
He came back down the stairs, a backpack slung across one shoulder, stomping harder than he usually did. Derek flinched slightly when he hit ground level.  
“Nothing? Fine, okay.” Stiles opened the door and lingered for a moment waiting for Derek to say something, anything, but he was met with only silence. With some relish, he slammed the door behind him. 

.

For the first three days, Stiles laid in his old room with the curtains closed and his phone on the bedside table, staring at it. Every time it pinged he jumped and grabbed it. Invariably it was Scott, texting to find out where he is. He and Derek had fought like this before. Either Derek rang and apologised or yelled in the first forty-eight hours or he wasn’t going to. Stiles knew from experience that him calling would only make things worse. Or so he told himself. Twice when Stiles had stormed away, Derek had left. Run into the woods and not come back for days or weeks.  
Stiles stared at the ceiling and imagined what their wedding would have been like. He realized he hadn’t even asked Derek where it was going to be. He’d wandered into a store, been measured, and rushed off before he could even see his suit. But there was some kind of Trickster in the forest! She was turning people intro donkeys, he had no time.  
“I had no time to see the suit.” He repeated aloud. “No time.”  
With a groan he rolled over and buried his face in his pillow.  
He eventually got out of bed, although it took a small plague of imps to do it. Isaac and Boyd dragged him out of bed, told him that Derek was nowhere to be found, confirming his worst fears, and that they needed him. It was a simple spell, really, but it took most of three days to find it. After some trouble rounding them up they burnt the herbs and Lydia and Stiles chanted and bound them to a grove of trees. They also found the six or so children the imps had kidnapped, for seemingly no other reason than entertainment.  
Stiles staggered home in the early hours of the morning, dirty and aching, and fell into bed. 

.

It wasn’t until the sunlight fell on his face and he sleepily opened his eyes that he realized it wasn’t his Dad’s he had ended up at. It was well after noon, judging by the sun, and a rough feline tongue washed his face thoroughly. He pushed Liza gently off his face and looked around. He was in his and Derek’s room, their laughing faces looking down at him from multiple cutsie pictures Derek would only let him put up in here. Derek’s side of the bed was undisturbed and Stiles choked back a sob.  
Coffee. He needed coffee. 

He was staring blankly out of their large windows when the door slid open and he spun so quickly his coffee sloshed on his shirt.  
“Ow, shit!” He exclaimed.  
Scott cocked his head and it was all Stiles could do not to snap at him. Derek was nowhere in sight and Scott was carrying several large packages.  
“Hey man,” Scott said, following Stiles into the kitchen, where Stiles stripped off his shirt and wet a paper towel with cold water to soothe the scald on his chest.  
“Hey. What’s up?” Stiles replied shortly.  
“I, uh, had to drop off your stuff for today? And Lydia said to stick around and make sure you showered and stuff, so…”  
He trailed off at Stiles’ blank expression.  
“You haven’t forgotten, have you, dude? You know the date?”  
Slow realization was dawning on Stiles, slower than he would have liked, although in his defence he hadn’t had any coffee yet.  
“The wedding?” Scott supplied.  
“The wed- but I thought-” Stiles stuttered. “Shit! What’s the time? I didn’t think it was- are you sure Derek’s still-?”  
Scott held a hand out to steady Stiles.  
“I’m sure, I mean, no-one has seen Derek in a couple of days… but I’m pretty sure the girls have been in touch with him. You’ve got plenty of time. Well- you’ve got enough time. If you get in the shower like- now.”

.

Stiles climbed into the Jeep, careful not to scuff his shiny black shoes. Scott had talked him out of driving, since he didn’t know where they were going, and now Stiles tapped nervously, fiddling with the radio and his still-wet hair and the open collar and buttons of his dark purple shirt.  
“Are you sure there’s no tie for this?” He asked Scott, for the third or fourth time.  
Scott glanced at him, bemused. He wore an almost identical suit.  
“Yeah man. No ties, Derek hates them.”  
“Yeah, me too” Stiles muttered. “Where are we going?”  
Scott laughed. “I’m not ruining it if Derek hasn’t said anything.”  
Stiles was sure Derek wouldn’t be there. No way did he keep planning the wedding when Stiles had been such an asshole. He’d have to be a saint. No, he’d cancelled everything and just forgotten to let people know.  
As the sun was getting low in the sky they pulled into a car park for what appeared to be a large barn, but Stiles knew was a two storey, airy and rustic restaurant.  
“Barton’s!” He exclaimed. “We had our first date here.”  
The Sheriff strode out, wearing a suit very similar to Scott and Stiles’, although his shirt was deep navy blue, not purple. He checked his watch and smiled broadly.  
“Right on time. Nice work, Scott.” He said, as they climbed out of the car.  
“You wait here, your Dad’ll bring you in when it’s time. He knows the drill.” Scott said as he hurried inside.  
“Everyone knows more about my wedding than I do, don’t they?” Stiles asked drily.  
The Sheriff laughed “I think Derek was afraid you’d run if you knew too much. You’re so skittish.”  
“Have you seen him?” Stiles tried to keep his voice casual, but it cracked in the middle of the question.  
His father shook his head. “Not this afternoon, but I’ve been busy. He’ll be here, mark my words.”  
A couple of minutes passed, and the Sheriff, keeping a close eye on his watch, straightened Stiles’ jacket.  
“It’s go time. Are you ready?”  
“I was born ready.” Stiles replied automatically, smiling a little despite the turmoil roiling his stomach.  
He led Stiles through a side door that opened into a clean, simple room, and from there into a hallway that ended in a pair of huge double doors. He linked his arm through Stiles’ and smiled at him, before facing forward.  
“Stiles I- I wish your mother was here. She would be so proud. She’d tell you that you look very handsome and that you’d found a good man in Derek. And… that even though sometimes you feel like you don’t deserve this happiness, you do.” He coughed, clearing his throat and didn’t look at Stiles.  
Stiles looked at his shoes, trying to swallow away the burning in his throat.  
“I wish she were here too, Dad. Do you really think she’d like Derek?” He asked.  
“Sure she would. Just look what he’s done for you.”  
As he spoke two people pulled open the doors from the inside, revealing the restaurant, but not as Stiles had seen it. 

.

The place had always been beautiful, with high ceilings and polished wooden panels, but the floor was clear of everything but the rows of chairs that their family and friends sat on. Gently twinkling lights hung from the ceiling, casting a soft, ethereal light on everything. On the end of the rows were flowers, single blooms surrounded by ferns and leaves, reminding Stiles of Spring. In the crowd he could see most of his extended family, what little Derek had, and many of the people they knew together. There was a young man Deaton had released from the wendigo curse, sitting with the girl who had been practicing witchcraft. Stiles remembered Lydia saying something about them creating some sort of support group for the Beacon Hills supernaturally effected. There were also two rows of scantily clad men and women with flowers threaded into their hair.  
And at the end of the aisle stood nine people. On one side, Cora, Erica, Allison and Lydia stood, holding tulips and wearing floaty blue and purple dresses. On the other stood Isaac, Boyd, Scott and Jackson, all in matching suits. And in the centre was Derek, looking expectantly at Stiles.  
Stiles had been looking around, drinking in the sight, but when his eyes met Derek’s he found he couldn’t look away. If his father hadn’t been guiding him he would have run down the aisle, undoubted ruining the flow of the violin and piano music that filled the air.  
After what felt like an eternity, they reached the end of the aisle. His father let him go and took a seat. Stiles immediately kissed Derek, murmuring into his mouth, a steady stream of words.  
“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean any of it I’m sorry this place is beautiful did you really do all this I’m sorry I’m sorry-”  
Derek laughed and pulled away. “Hush, it’s fine, come on,” he whispered.  
The ceremony was simple and over quickly. Hand fasting and some traditional wolf vows and then a kiss; to which there was thunderous applause.

.

Upstairs was decked out for the reception. Dinner was a long buffet and Stiles threw a specially made bouquet, which Allison caught. They danced under lanterns and the cake was peanut butter and chocolate. Stiles ate not one, not two, but three pieces.  
The dozen or so fae, who Derek grumbled about taking some liberties with the invitation, produced a maypole from somewhere and were mixing drinks for everyone, the effects of which they assured Derek would wear off before the humans left the building. They did suggest the wolves not drink any, though.  
Derek pulled Stiles into a small room and they talked. He had continued planning the wedding after their fight, had gotten so caught up with the details that he ended up in a hotel room, keeping in touch with people only via email. Stiles apologized and apologized until Derek kissed him to shut him up. They emerged a while later, slightly dishevelled, in time to receive a large wink from Erica and to see the Sheriff doing the chicken dance to the Macarena.  
It was the early morning before the night began to wind down, when Stiles, pondering another piece of cake, suddenly looked at Derek.  
“Wait, are we going on a honeymoon?” he exclaimed.  
Derek just raised an eyebrow.  
As it turned out, they were. Stiles didn’t know how he was going to tell Lydia they’d gone to Milan and barely even looked out their hotel window.


End file.
